


Craving a Cool Down

by GeckoGirl89



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Angst, Cordelia POV, Denial of Feelings, F/M, Inexperienced Cordelia, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Mentioned Wilson Christopher, Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Episode: s03e06 Billy, Season/Series 03, Sexual Fantasy, Temperature kink, Unhappy Ending, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-07 01:54:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11048862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeckoGirl89/pseuds/GeckoGirl89
Summary: The basement is stifling with how warm it is. Or maybe that's just Cordelia.





	Craving a Cool Down

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this prompt on fic_promptly (http://fic-promptly.dreamwidth.org/509437.html?thread=15211261#cmt15211261): "Author's choice, author's choice, dealing with a very warm sensation down in the groin."
> 
> Honestly, my first thought was temperature kink with these two since Angel is a vampire. (Thanks again, Cangel, for giving me another kink I never even knew I had). And the phrase "dealing with" made me imagine Cordy trying to "cool off" alone after getting too hot during one of their training sessions.
> 
> This fic takes place before Darla shows up in Offspring (3.07) and after Angel and Cordelia start training together in Billy (3.06). The other characters in Angel Investigations who aren't Angel and Cordelia have bit parts, since this fic is mostly shameless smut.
> 
> Part of this accidentally got cut when it was originally posted, but now that has been fixed.

The basement is stifling with how warm it is. Or maybe that's just Cordelia.  
  
Angel's cool fingertips are settled on her hips, in that little space between where her tank top ends and her low-rise leggings begin. He's ostensibly holding her like this because he's training her how to respond to an attack from behind, but Cordelia doesn't see how all this touching is necessary. She's sure Wes or Gunn wouldn't touch her as much as Angel does during training. But if they did, she's probably wouldn't react the same way either.  
  
Angel's touch is light, but Cordy is imagining his fingers digging into her hips, leaving little bruises that will show the next day, as he fucks her from behind. If she had a flat surface to lean on top of (like her desk, for example) and Angel stepped just a few inches closer, he could easily slide his cock into her.  
  
Or maybe those cold fingers could delve downward just a little, roaming under her panties and leggings to touch her core, making her shiver against his hand and providing some welcome relief to the heat blooming between her thighs.  
  
"Cor?" he asks, and his chilly breath tickles against her neck. Cordy chews on her lower lip to bite back a longing sigh as she pictures his soft lips, which are so close to her ear, kissing all the way down her neck.  
  
Instead, she straightens and stiffens her muscles, attempting to focus on the task at hand. Because spreading your legs and bending over to be fucked doggy style or begging to get finger banged is hardly the proper response to an attack from an enemy.  
  
"Yeah, I'm ready," she says, hoping to God Angel doesn't pick up on the husky quality of her voice. She didn't specify what she was ready for, and her body is definitely ready for some things that have nothing to do with training.  
  
If this had been the end of their training session, Cordy could have handled it, remaining calm throughout the day until she got a chance to go home later and "handle" herself with her vibrator. She's been doing that a lot more often lately, and she's not sure why, though she hasn't had a date in a very long time.  
  
The fact that her mind has been drifting more often and often to Angel rather than the hot movie stars who used to dominate her fantasy life probably has something to do with it, but Cordelia would rather pretend that it didn't.  
  
The point is, Cordy would have been fine (or could have pretended that she was) if the training session had ended then and there. But they were barely getting started, and things only get worse from there.  
  
First, there's a moment, inconsequential really, when Angel touches her waist for only a few seconds. But those few seconds are important, because it's long enough for Cordy to imagine Angel's hands sweeping up from her waist to cup her breasts and squeeze them gently. Her breasts have always been sensitive, but normally she needs something to actually touch them to feel stimulated. Not this time, however, and her nipples form into tight peaks underneath the layers of her bra and tank top. But in her mind, those layers are non-existent, and Angel's hands ghost over the underside of her breast before arriving at her nipples, pinching and rubbing with his skilled fingers. The idea makes her panties cling to her labia due to the lubrication gushing out of her entrance.  
  
Then, as if that's not enough, Angel has to take his shirt off. She knows Angel still has a soul, but apparently he doesn't need to be Angelus to cruelly torture his poor seer.  
  
She's always been affected by the sight of Angel shirtless, and now is no exception. Usually, when he takes his shirt off and Cordy has to touch his naked chest to patch him up, she can make jokes that can hide her attraction. If she chides him for things like "flexing his manly boob muscles," Angel focuses on her annoyance rather than the fact she just complimented his rock-hard pecs. But right now, all she can do is stare with her mouth hanging open like one of those Furies, who were obnoxious Angel groupies. She slams her mouth shut to avoid actually drooling, which would be seriously pathetic.  
  
Cordy's brain, which is clearly starting to melt from all the damn heat in the basement, conjures up the image of her licking her way down Angel's chest, starting with his nipples, which are standing at attention after being exposed to the air. There's a bead of sweat falling down the center of his torso, and Cordy squeezes her thighs together as she considers chasing it with her tongue, pausing to nip at his lower stomach before she pulls down the waistband of his ridiculously low-slung sweats and swallows his cock down to the base.  
  
Logically, Cordy isn't even sure if she would be capable of doing that. With the way he's so large and firm and muscular everywhere else, it makes sense that Angel's dick would be huge as well. She snuck a quick peek at him recently when he got possessed by that horny old guy and wore those leather pants for the first time in forever, and she was certainly impressed. Angel is packing, and it's no wonder that he usually wears pants that are baggier in the crotch area.  
  
But in her fantasy, Cordy is totally a pro at giving head and is somehow able to suck all of Angel's dick into her mouth. She squirms, subtly rubbing her legs together just to feel some kind of friction and trying not to gasp as she pictures herself on her knees, his hands raking through her hair, staring down at her with intense dark eyes, and groaning out her name. Fuck, she wants that. And she craves Angel's dick in her mouth, because this workout has made her thirsty and she could use something cold to slurp on. She salivates at the thought of tasting Angel's cum, which she would gladly drink down, and Cordy's pussy clenches around nothing.  
  
Angel turns to get a sword, and the sight of him shirtless from the back is just as good as it was from the front. That tattoo on his shoulder is really sexy, and Cordy would like to give him a little love-bite, right there. His back is flawless and smooth but for that tattoo, but Cordy can picture the red lines that would be there if they ever actually had sex. Because when his movements inside her drew pushed her ito the best orgasm of her life, Cordy's nails would be digging into his back. The thought that she would leave evidence of their lovemaking on his body sends a possessive little thrill down her spine.  
  
By the time they're near the end of the session, Cordy's poor, abused pussy actually fucking hurts from throbbing with so much heat. They do another weird maneuver that contorts her body in a bizarre way, and she manages to topple Angel before falling on top of him, landing with her hips near Angel's shoulders.  
  
_Fuck, fuck, fuck!_ If she moved up just a few inches, she could sit on Angel's face. Her face burns crimson at the idea, because that scenario is a little more plausible than the other things she's been imagining that day. With his curse, she knows sex is a big no-no for Angel and that blowjobs are probably out as well, but Angel might be able to go down on a girl without getting "perfectly happy" himself. He'd be really good at it too, smooth lips and cool, wet, wicked tongue easily able to make her scream from pleasure, especially in the state she's in right now. He could take a lot more than a human man could, going as many times as she wanted and never having to come up for air because it's not like he has to breathe. Cordy could grind her hips on his face for hours without fear of hurting him or making him suffocate, and maybe, just maybe, Angel would enjoy it too.  
  
_Yeah, if he was actually into you or something,_ she snarks at herself. And with that depressing thought, Cordy lifts herself off of Angel, walks off to get a bottle of water from the mini-fridge, and sits propped up against the wall while she takes large gulps of it. She feels hot, sticky, and gross all over, especially in her aching center.  
  
Angel walks towards her, and that doesn't really help at all. She's sure that with the proximity to his nose a couple minutes ago, Angel could smell how damp she was, but he diplomatically refrained from commenting on the obvious. Which is good, because she really doesn't need to hear a "let's just be friends" speech from Angel. Not when she's thinking about how his spiky hair would give Cordy something nice to grip while he fucks her with his tongue. She crosses her legs at the notion and manages to toss Angel a carefree smile.  
  
He collapses next to her against the wall. "I think we're done for now. You did really good today, even wore me out."  
  
She giggles lightly, thinking that there's some other ways she'd like to wear him out. For instance, the gym mats might not be as comfortable as a bed, but they're definitely cushy enough to support her back while Angel pounds his cock into her.  
  
She tenses at the thought, and Angel, like the dumbass he is, mistakes her reaction for actual muscle tension instead of arousal. His cool, soothing fingers land on her shoulders, flexing as he starts to give her a massage.  
  
Her eyes fall closed, and she lets out a tiny whimper. Angel is so good at this, and it's such a relief to be touched right now, even in a totally innocuous way. A full body massage would be nice right about now, especially one with a happy ending. She's putty in Angel's hands.  
  
"You like that, Cordy?" he whispers in an unintentionally seductive tone, sending goosebumps over her earlobe, which is so frustratingly close to his lips right now. She bites back a moan, because she can totally picture Angel saying something like that while his fingers flick over her clit and his cock rubs against her G-spot with each slow, deep thrust into her welcoming entrance. _You like that, baby? You want more?_ Totally unnecessary questions, because Cordy clearly more than likes it, and she obviously wants more. More than what Angel will ever give her.  
  
Her eyes snap open at the reminder of the real world, and she finishes her bottle of water as quickly as she can without seeming suspicious. She moves out from under Angel's teasing fingers and walks away to toss the empty bottle in the trash can.  
  
She turns to face him before going up the stairs. "I'm gonna take a shower now." _A cold one, obviously_. "I'll see you later."  
  
Angel grins at her like he has no clue what she's thinking. "See you later."  
  
Cordy escapes out of the boiling hot basement, and she's able to get out of the lobby after exchanging a few words with Fred, who calls out a greeting to her. Normally, Cordy wouldn't mind chatting with her friend, but conversation isn't really on her agenda right now. She responds just enough to avoid being rude, and then she makes her way upstairs to one of the empty rooms in the hotel and locks the door to the adjoining bathroom.  
  
She strips off her clothes in only a few seconds, eager to get under the shower. She turns the water to as cold as it can get since she intends to get clean rather than get off, and hops in.  
  
Cordy immediately shivers, but not in an unpleasant, teeth-chattering way. More like a little too pleasant, entire body quivering from lust way. She slaps her forehead when she realizes her mistake. Apparently, with all of the fantasizing she's been doing about her vampire bestie, she's gone and developed a kink for cold temperatures. Good job, Cor!  
  
Initially, she still plans to have this be a regular shower, so she starts off with washing her hair, using some shampoo and conditioner that she had left in that bathroom a few days ago. Washing her hair would be harmless enough, if she hadn't had that vivid fantasy earlier of Angel's hands twisting through her hair to guide her movements while she blew him. Fuck, does _everything_ have to come back to him?!  
  
Cordy growls in aggravation and roughly lathers up her torso and legs with the shower gel she left, rubbing as hard as she can with the washcloth. But that again, only makes her think of Angel and his rough, calloused hands groping her, touching as much of her body as he can in a frenzy of need.  
  
You know what, screw it! Cordy is done lying to herself. Right now, her "private time" in the shower, is the perfect opportunity to work off some of the tension she feels. She throws the washcloth down on the shower floor and pours a bunch of shower gel directly into her hands before she raises both hands to squeeze her breasts.  
  
_Ahh, that's the ticket,_ Cordy thinks. Her hands aren't as big as Angel's would be, but they're good enough. She pinches her nipples between her thumb and forefinger, imaging that it's Angel's blunt teeth instead and that the water falling on them is Angel's spit as he sucks her nipples into his mouth.  
  
Normally, Cordy would continue with this foreplay a little longer, but she's already unconsciously spread her legs a little and started trying to hump the air. She's waited more than long enough to touch herself, so she lowers one of her hands to her dripping folds.  
  
She whimpers at the first touch of her fingers, which are cold from the shower, to her hot and soaking pussy. She could just about die and go to heaven at this point, and in her fantasy, Angel could too, commenting with stunned wonder at how wet she is and not just from the shower. Maybe he'd lower himself to his knees, hook one of her legs over his shoulder, and groan with pure need when he starts to eat her out.  
  
Cordy rubs little circles right over her engorged clit and starts panting for breath while she does it. At this point, Angel would start to say comforting things to her, be all "shh, baby, shh" even as he increases the pressure on her oversensitive bud and makes her cry out for him, only him.  
  
The clit rubbing is amazing, but it's not quite enough. She'd normally work herself up a little more, but Cordy is so far gone that she pushes two fingers inside her vagina at once.  
  
"Oh, fuck!" She bites her lip, blushing bright red as she realized she just yelled that out loud, hoping nobody, especially _Angel_ heard her and could recognize what she was doing.  
  
She lifts the hand that had been playing on her breast up to her mouth, hoping that will muffle the sounds she's going to inevitable make and closes her eyes before she continues.  
  
This time, the fantasy has changed, and she's back in the basement, huffing and puffing for breath as Angel holds her up against the wall and thrusts into her. God, that would be good.  
  
Cordy gets lost in her fantasy and crooks her fingers at just the right angle to brush against her G-spot. It's not too hard to pretend that it's Angel, instead, nearly frozen fingers easily substituted with a cold, hard erection in her mind. With her eyes closed, she can picture Angel standing inches away from her, dark, smoldering eyes boring into hers and blacking out everything but the thought and sight of him.  
  
She shoves a third finger inside herself and has to bite down hard on her hand to avoid screaming. Because this, _this_ is exactly how Angel would feel inside her, stretching to just the right amount of painful, cool shaft such a relief inside her hot entrance that she could sob from the pleasure of it, his cock hard, thick, and twitching as he gave her time to adjust and struggled to control his need and stop himself from just slamming viciously into her.  
  
Cordy has only ever had sex once, and the guy was lacking in many ways (not just size) in comparison to Angel. Wilson Christopher only cared about getting himself off and impregnating Cordy with his demon babies, so he just made her kind of achy by pushing into her a few times after minimal foreplay before he came and fell asleep right afterwards. She was never even in the neighborhood of an orgasm with him.

It wouldn't be like that with Angel. During their first time together, he would tease her like he had unknowingly during their training session, until she begs for it, until she's wet and ready for everything he has to offer her.  
  
And she's more than ready now, so she starts to rock her hand a little, just like how Angel would at first, tender, slow, and caring. God, that's all she wants. Angel to care about her in this intimate way, Angel to hold her close, bring her to soaring heights of ecstasy she'd never known before, and Angel to look at her like he loves her while he does.  
  
She speeds up her fingers gradually as she imagines it, Angel's eyes filled with infinite affection, trying to last as long as he can to make sure that she gets to come too, chanting her name like it's the only word that matters, like he can't say anything else. She gets closer to the edge, and she flicks her clit roughly.  
  
"Cordy, ah, Cordy, fuck! Love you!" he shouts. And then he trembles weakly inside her, shaking as he falls apart and fills her with his explosive release.  
  
Cordy practically faints when her climax hits her but manages to lean her back against the wall of the shower, teeth digging into the palm of her hand to contain a blood-curdling shriek as she spasms around her own fingers. The thought of Angel coming inside her has turned her brain and body to mush, but her powerful orgasm feels incredible after all of that build-up.  
  
Eventually, she descends back down to Earth and shakes her head at her foolish, sappy thoughts near the end. _This is why you don't think about fucking your best friend_ , she chastises herself. _That way lies mondo badness, and you know it._  
  
But this wasn't the first time she thought of Angel when she did this, and she knows it won't be the last as she withdraws her fingers from her body with a hiss. She's sore in the best kind of way, just like she would be if Angel and her ever did have sex. Unfortunately, it's going to remind her of what she did for days afterwards, which isn't as fun when you know that you were only fingering yourself.  
  
Cordy shuts off the shower, no longer enjoying it as much now that she doesn't need to "cool off." Freezing to death isn't that fun, after all.  
  
She steps out of the shower and dries herself off gently with the towel, trying desperately to not lament the lack of an afterglow, Angel cradling her in his arms, smiling at her like she just gave him the world, engaging in silly banter with her about nothing essential until she feels tired enough to fall asleep. She washes off her hands, as if that will get rid of what she's done to herself, what she keeps doing to herself, only turning off the sink when her hands turn red from the hot water. She gets dressed and runs a brush through her hair to get out any tangles, deliberately avoiding her own eyes in the mirror, which are totally not red and watery because she feels lonely and miserable about what she can never have. _Get a grip, Cor._

By the time she descends down the stairs with a grin that hopefully looks carefree rather than manic or anxious, everyone else is gathered in the lobby, reading books to research for their latest case. Angel is there too, and when he briefly glances up at her, she notices that his hair is wet. Cordy tries to block the thought that Angel was just showering and naked, but it doesn't really work. And the idea that maybe he had been doing what she just did in the shower sends a swarm of butterflies fluttering in her tummy.

The butterflies depart when she feels a heavy tome being passed to her hand. "Here," Wesley says, so intent on his work that he doesn't even look up at her. "For the case."

Her smile is a little more real this time when she directs it at Wes, who unknowingly just rescued her from a weird staring contest with Angel. "Thanks," Cordy says. She plans to get back to research, hoping that focusing on work will keep Angel from questioning why she was gazing at him for so damn long, and why her face was probably filled with blatant longing. She spots an open chair next to Gunn's and decides to go ahead and sit next to him.

As soon as her butt settles in the chair, Gunn clears his throat. "That was one _long_ shower," he mutters.

Cordelia turns to Gunn, fighting the urge to bite his head off. He doesn't really deserve to be the target of her irritation just because he's sitting next to her, but she reconsiders her opinion when she sees the amused smirk on his face, like he knows what she was really doing upstairs. Since he made his witty little quip in front of someone with supernatural hearing abilities, he probably deserves a hard kick to the shin as well.  
  
But she does neither, instead dialing back her smile so it looks more like friendly Cordy than Jack Nicholson in _The Shining_. She shrugs with false casualness. "Ah, well, you know me. Any time I can get decent water pressure, I've got to take advantage of it."  
  
Gunn chuckles and shakes his head as if he buys her excuse. Cordy knows he's too smart for that, but she's glad that he's pretending for her sake and dropping his curiosity about why she was upstairs so long.  
  
Cordy opens her book, concentrating on it and ignoring the way that she can feel Angel staring at her from across the room as if she's a very difficult puzzle he's trying to solve. It will take a few minutes for him to give up, but she can wait him out. As stubborn as Angel is, he's got nothing on Cordy, who is determined to go on like nothing happened.  
  
_Everything is fine_ , she tells herself. It's a mantra she's been repeating for a while, and it's starting to lose effectiveness as time passes, but for now, the denial works well enough. Cordy is able to focus on research, and eventually, Angel quits trying to figure her out and does the same.


End file.
